


My King, My Knight

by foxxygrandma



Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxygrandma/pseuds/foxxygrandma
Summary: After the defeat of Caster, Arturia Pendragon seeks out Diarmuid Ua Duibhne in hopes of finding a new life together outside the Holy Grail War.





	1. Chapter 1

 "Saber?" The name rang through the air, Lancer's form fading back into the physical realm as he stepped forward onto the abandoned rooftop. Caster was finally dead, the ravenous murderer removed from the Grail war so that only the worthy were left to fight amongst one another. It was finally time for Saber and Lancer to have their true battle, uninterrupted, on a completely even playing field. Ever since the two of them had met, this had been their wish, to be allowed to have an honorable battle and either win or lose to the other with dignity. He felt, for a brief instant, nervousness. Whoever were to win the battle would continue on, never seeing the other again in this lifetime. What a cruel fate it would be to lose Saber in this life or any other, he swallowed back. Despite his personal feelings, this was his duty as a servant, and he refused to let his own desires get in the way of his master's victory. At the other end of the rooftop, Saber stepped out of the shadows and Lancer instantly felt any other emotions he had contained shift into excitement. No matter who won, the battle would be one of legend, one that would live on in their hearts for all eternity. 

 

 "Lancer, it is good to see you." Her lips curved into a small smile as she bridged the gap between them. At his side, he gripped his crimson spear, a devilish grin across his face as he braced himself for the fight of a lifetime. She paused, inches away from her fellow servant, her hues scanning his form, tense and prepared for battle. Her head shook, her battle armor fading back into the black suit she had grown accustomed to in her travels. Every question in the world seemed prominent in his gaze, his grip loosening on his weapon. "I have not come here to fight you, Lancer. I have come..." she hesitated for just a moment, feeling her cheeks flush, "to ask you something." Lancer's entire form relaxed, his arm rising to re-sheath his spear at his back. "If that is all, I shall endeavor to answer your question to the best of my ability." The knight's golden hues met with Saber's, his features hesitant to relax after what he found in her gaze. If they were truly not there to fight, there was only one thing she could desire from him—his eyes widened, no, she would never ask such a thing. Her lips parted and in the moment of anticipation it was as if he'd lost the ability to breathe. "You must know what I've come here for, Caster is defeated and we are soon to be next. I wish to desert this war for as long as I am able, and I wish to take you with me, Diarmuid."

 

 As soon as the words left her mouth, it was as if he was in Ireland once more, running away with the woman who had ultimately led to his death. They, too, had wanted to flee from their obligations for the promise of love—be it a false promise, it was a promise still, and it had ended in ruin. But this, this was different, Saber had been immune to his curse from the start and he, he had felt a glimmer since the moment their weapons collided in the battlefield. The emotions that now filled him were true, but the idea of running away, again, leaving someone he had sworn fealty to, it was overwhelming. The king of knights gazed behind her, a sense of urgency clear on her features when she moved to look up at him once more,

 

 "We're almost out of time,"

 

"Saber, I-I cannot simply abandon the war, abandon my master!" His words shook, if only for a moment, but that was proof enough of his true desires. She knew not how he felt, only that when the two of them fought, either side by side or against one another, it was clear they were meant for far more than this war. Fighting against one another was useless, she had no will to defeat Lancer or to win the grail anymore. "Listen to me--" Saber reached upwards, gripping the cloth of his shirt as her gaze pierced through his sense of honor and duty. "This Grail War is meaningless, you have fought valiantly for your master and your heroic name but we are not meant to be at odds. We cannot be controlled by their will any longer, and we will not be damned to perish at the hands of one another—we can join together and be free from all of this!" Her newfound determination startled him, after all the conversation about loyalty and duty, she was willing to abandon her obligations for the mere chance of their own happy ending? Such thoughts had always been fleeting to Lancer, he too had never reveled in the idea of hurting Arturia, but he had sworn an oath. This was his duty, to be a servant in a war far greater than just him, he was simply a knight in a game of heroes. If this was all... meaningless, if he had a choice... could he truly be free to choose Saber?

 

 "Meaningless?" Lancer murmured below his breath, desperately searching her hues for a crack in her resolve to these ideals. He found none, something had shifted her worldview completely, and she was ready to plunge into a whole new world where they had no purpose. His eyelids fell, one hand rising to rest atop her own that continued to grip his chest, if he were reincarnated a thousand times he would always choose the same fate that now filled his stomach with butterflies. Her grasp loosened, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her veins. In her lifetime, she had never felt such an intense emotion except when leading her country or fighting beside the members of the round table. She shifted to envelop his hand in both of her own, "Will you come with me?" her voice had grown much softer with the final question, how she longed for him to agree and embark on this new journey. It was one of many hardships and impossible odds, but for some reason, it was worth it. His eyelids flickered open, attempting to remain composed as his gaze shifted between her own. He swallowed back, dipping his head and dropping to his knees. "My king, I would follow you anywhere."


	2. The Modern World

 "Do you have anything more modern?" 

 

 Lancer's eyebrow arched as the blonde gestured to the skin tight green leather he currently donned. Unlike Arturia, he'd maintained the same appearance since the beginning of the war, after all his master had no need for him to blend in when in the heat of battle. His head tilted to the side, amber hues shifting between her suit and his own attire, "Perhaps, it would be better if I followed your lead." He nodded, his outfit re-materializing to mimic her own, a fitted black suit with an emerald green undershirt. It was a strange sensation wearing something so formal in a world he had only been brought to in order to fight, but it wasn't unpleasant in the least. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asked, his fingers moving to slightly loosen his tie. Her emerald gaze scanned over his form, lips pursed together before their hues met and her features softened. Diarmuid was almost taken aback by the sound he heard, a giggle. Her lips had formed into a smile and she burst into laughter, something he had yet to experience, and there were not words to describe it. It wasn't a small or feminine laugh, but it was beautiful, as if the sun itself shined from within her. He couldn't help but mimic her smile, "What do you find so amusing?" she raised her hands in front of herself, shaking them, "No, no, it's just—the modern world suits you."

 

 No matter how much he wanted to revel in the true joy of the moment, they were far from being free from their obligations. They had agreed to leave the war together, but both of their masters still contained command seals, and at any moment they could summon either of them back without fail. "I am glad you think so, but, Saber, we must devise a plan." Her smile quickly faded, replaced by a look of annoyance. "And we will, do not worry. I simply believe we should be able to enjoy today first, do you not agree?" Lancer swallowed back, but moved to bow before her, "My king's desires are my only concern." He maintained formality despite how unusual their circumstances had become, rising from his bow to find his companion reaching out towards him. Her gloved hand grasped his own, instantly causing his cheeks to fade pink as he stared down at their entwined fingers. "S-Saber..." he began, but before he had the opportunity to finish, she began pulling him behind her down the empty sidewalk. When they finally reached their destination, they both came to a halt and she slowly released his hand, leaving a knot in his stomach as he watched their fingers untangle. "This was a gift when I arrived in this new land, my rider skill has come in incredibly handy."

 

 His gaze trailed up to the sleek motorcycle she had now begun mounting. It was incredible how different their arrivals into this world had been, his master would never have dared climb on top of this machine or even allowed his servant to. She revved up the engine and scooted forward on her seat, "You're not frightened, are you Lancer?" she spoke playfully, wiggling her eyebrows in his direction. "How could I be frightened of a glorified horse?" he challenged, hoping to suppress the nerves filling his stomach. He climbed on the small space behind her and instantly felt his entire face grow warm as his chest pressed against her back. She didn't seem to notice, simply revving the engine once more before angling her chin to glance at him, "You may wish to hold on," she murmured, turning away from him. "To what?" as soon as he asked, she slammed her foot on the pedal and they took off down the street. His arms instantly wrapped around her stomach as he clung to her. Yet again, Arturia laughed, swerving the machine through traffic as quickly as she was able. Diarmuid's heart raced beneath his chest, his grip only growing tighter with every movement the vehicle made. It was incredible how full of life she was behind the reins, as if she hadn't a worry in the world and the only thing that mattered was the wind through her hair. Despite the fear running through his veins, he couldn't help but admire how liberating the machine felt, and how incredible the woman steering it truly was. Their previous encounters had been enough to prove that, but somehow, seeing her as just a person made her all the more enchanting.

 

 When the ride was over, he had found a new appreciation, and fear, for her method of transportation. The experience of the wind rushing through his locks and her body up against his had been incredible in its own, and it was something he longed to try again, but hopefully not for a long while. "Do you intend to hold on all day?" Arturia asked, placing a hand over where his arms overlapped against her stomach. His hues instantly widened, cheeks flaring as he hastily unwrapped himself from her and stood beside the vehicle. "I apolog-" she cut him off, "I told you that you would need to hold on," he simply nodded in response, taking a deep breath in hopes to hide his own embarrassment. She stood from her ride and stuffed the keys into her pocket, gazing around at the stores that lined the streets. Unlike Fuyuki, the sidewalks were covered in individuals and their families out enjoying their day, blissfully clueless of an omnipotent wish granting device a couple of towns over. "My king, where are we?" she turned to face him, "Diarmuid," she began, "We need not draw attention, please call me by my true name." his brows furrowed, "But, my king, is it not undignified to be called by your name by a simple knight?"

 

"I believe this trip proves you are more than a simple knight."

 

 His lips parted, wanting to further argue, but instead he slowly nodded, "Arturia," it felt so strange using her real name, not Saber, not My King, but Arturia Pendragon. "Thank you," she smiled, extending her hand towards his own and holding it there. He slowly reached forward, taking her smaller hand in his own, and she began dragging him through the crowds that filled the sidewalk. "You never answered my question," he spoke, struggling to keep track of her amongst the bodies all compiled together. Had he not been gripping onto her hand, he feared she would have been swept away by the masses. Even if she had answered him, he couldn't see or hear her whatsoever. Occasionally her hand would squeeze his when they were about to lose their grip, but they never did. She continued to drag him along until finally, she pulled him from the crowd to stand in front of a small restaurant. A chalkboard sign sat in front of the glass doors, describing what the soup of the day was and their hours of operation. His form froze, realizing the true situation before him. They had run away from the war, but that wasn't what now left him in complete awe—they were going on a date.

 

 Arturia moved towards the door, instantly snapping him out of his thoughts to rush and hold the door open for her. If this was a date, he would make sure it was the best date it could possibly be. She thanked him and entered, him following closely behind as he scanned the interior. It wasn't anything extravagant, though most the tables were full and the smell emanating from the back of the building sent his taste buds in a spiral. They found their way to a booth, though he found it awkward having to slide in to such a seat. Plastic menus were placed in front of them, a tall woman with a long, black ponytail grinning widely in his direction. If only he had known his king's intentions for their day, he could have warned her to prevent such a thing like this from happening. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under her prolonged gaze. "W-what would you two like to drink?" her words trembled, and he moved to pull the menu in front of his face. "Well I-" Arturia spoke up a bit too loudly, snapping the waitress' attention over to her, "would like an iced tea, thank you." "and I'll have a water," he spoke hastily, burying his face into the menu until she moved on to another table.

 

 As soon as she left, he placed the menu onto the table to find the blonde eyeing his beauty mark. "This may have not been the best idea," he commented, attempting to draw her gaze away, but she remained fixated. "It is quite the bother, isn't it? Having every woman to gaze upon you fall into a trance?" when her sentence finished, her eyes shifted to meet his, her lips pressed firmly together. "My curse was to never be able to know true love, and it is a curse. I do not revel in the way it effects those around me." She nodded, dropping her gaze to the menu, "I expected nothing less from a knight of your caliber," her words lingered in his mind, she knew of his curse previously and had never questioned the details of its evil. He took a deep breath, "Arturia," she lifted her head, tilting it in question, "I was truly lucky to have met you, someone who was not affected by the magic that haunts me." For the first time, her cheeks grew pink, and she quickly switched the conversation into the foods of the modern world. She seemed to be truly fascinated by the marvels that had been created since her lifetime. Since he had no requirement to eat, Diarmuid had not explored the foods, or traditions of this new world at all. She chose to order a burger, and he followed suit as she was the expert in this area and he feared further embarrassing himself.

 

 When their orders arrived, he was shocked at the sheer size of the sandwich and fries before him. Arturia took no time in starting her meal, but he couldn't help but hesitate, gawking at the huge meal he had ordered. It was impossible for her not to notice his discomfort, "It is delicious, have you not tried anything like it before?" he shook his head in response, "I have not been as well introduced to this era as you have, I'm afraid." She reached over the table, placing a hand over his own, "We will have to fix that, then." With her encouraging words, he dug into his own meal, only being able to finish half of it before he declared he'd had his fill. Another gift from her master's family, she was able to pay for the meal and even tip the waitress who, even as they left, continued to stare at Diarmuid.

 

 Once again, she took his hand and led him back through the crowd that had thinned out slightly since the last time they dredged through it. As they walked through, his mind wandered to question the intentions of his dear king. Nothing during their outing had led to the belief that it was or wasn't a date, he wished she would have told him exactly what she wished for from today. Reading women was never something Diarmuid had excelled at, after all, his curse had made it impossible to truly know anything about the women in his life. Now that there was someone free of his curse, it was as if his mind drew a complete blank in regards to her intentions. They arrived at her vehicle, releasing hands once more as she turned to face him, "I promise, we will discuss our course of action soon, but I have not yet experienced all I wish to." A smile spread across her lips that eased his own thoughts, whatever was going on, at least he was able to spend this time with her.


	3. Uneasy Sunsets

 The next time Diarmuid was forced to mount her motorcycle, his previous fear had been replaced mostly by enjoyment. He still looped his arms around her stomach to keep himself steadied, and because she seemed to enjoy the action itself. They cruised through the city, marveling at the sites to see and the people who enjoyed seeing them; nothing was the same as it had been in their own lifetimes. That was not a bad thing, but it was strange to get used to, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to actually live in this time instead of merely being summoned here as a spirit. His companion, however, had a completely different reaction to it all; where his stomach filled with hesitation, hers overflowed with excitement. Watching the king's enjoyment had by far been his favorite part of the day. The way her eyes would twinkle and her whole demeanor would turn to that of a young girl—she truly belonged in this era. There was no doubt that she fit her own era perfectly, but in this world, there was no telling the life she could have led.

 

"Do you enjoy sweets?"

 

 Diarmuid shrugged in response, "I'm sure I'll find in enjoyment in any foods this time has to offer." A small grin spread across her lips as she jerked the vehicle to the right, hastily parking in front of a small white building covered in windows that stretched from the ceiling to the pavement. The sidewalk in front of the establishment was sparsely covered, and only a few young adults lingered within its walls. Arturia slid off the motorcycle and he followed suit, his gaze falling to her hand, which instantly found its way to his again. There was no possible way to get lost in a place such as this, but he refused to address it. She pulled him through the front door, a chime filling their ears as they opened it. Within were several glass cases filled with every flavor of ice cream imaginable. Beyond the case was an elderly woman, her silver locks tucked back into a ponytail. "What can I get for you two?" she spoke, her voice warm and gentle. His gaze dropped to the flavors, scanning across each one before he turned to glance at his king, only to catch her eyeing him. "I'll have chocolate," Arturia spoke up, the old woman nodding before turning to him. He swallowed back, overwhelmed by the sheer options laid before him.

 

"Vanilla, please." Her gaze lingered a bit too long, but the king quickly paid and they were soon gifted towering cones. They sat at the curb in front of the building, Arturia instantly beginning to run her tongue along the ice cream. Watching her caused his cheeks to flush bright pink, to which he instantly turned away and began on his own dessert. "Do you want to try mine?" her voice pulled his attention back mid-lick, causing giggles to erupt from her lips. He retracted his tongue and cracked a small smile, "My king, I don't see how this is entertaining." She lifted her hand, her index finger brushing against his nose to wipe off some excess ice cream. "Oh," his cheeks grew warm again, his hand moving to her cone to gently press it up against her nose. "I see now," he burst out into small chuckles, to which she stuck her tongue out at him and wrinkled her nose. "You'll pay for that, my knight—mark my words!" she rose a fist into the air, shaking it quickly. "Do I still get a taste?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. Her emerald gaze instantly widened as he moved closer, pausing only inches from her face. Their gazes remained locked, her cheeks turning every shade of pink possible before he plucked her cone from her fingertips and moved away to take a lick of the chocolate delicacy. Hers was far sweeter than his had been, the flavor having a new intensity he had not expected whatsoever. "Then it's only fair," she took his cone and took a quick taste or two before they returned each other's ice cream. 

 

 It was difficult to avoid speaking of the grail war with her, throughout the rest of their ice cream adventure he struggled with pushing the topic to the back of his mind. She promised they would soon form a plan and all would be well, but he couldn't help but feel as if she were stalling. In another life, where the two had met as simple humans, he would have loved to enjoy moments like these without a single care in the world. She seemed to do that now, despite all they had been through and all they had yet to go through, it was remarkable to say the least. He had gone into the war without a wish for himself other than to have the honor that had been denied to him in the past, but Saber, she was different. She must have a wish far beyond herself, something honorable and impossible to do without the aid of a magical device. He shook his head, casting away his curiosities as he climbed on the back of the vehicle once more.

 

 "It will be nightfall soon," Diarmuid commented as the vehicle came to a halt before a red light. "We have one more stop, then we will rest and regain our strength." She assured, the light flickering green again. They arrived at their destination, hopping off and finding each other's hands once more. A small field stretched out before them, trees placed sparsely around a winding sidewalk that had been abandoned for the night. The two settled down at the base of a tree, fingers still intertwined as they gazed out at the sunset. The sky surrounding the sun faded oranges and reds as the sun slowly dipped beneath the surface and nightfall took over. Lamps that were placed along the path sprung to life, dimly shining light on the two of them. He leaned back, resting against the bark of the tree as his amber gaze scanned the woman. His thoughts drifted back to the questions that had bothered him since they left that rooftop. Arturia was an incredibly honorable woman, it made no sense for her to suddenly turn on her mission, on her master. And yet, here she was, her pale skin glowing under the artificial light. There had to be more to the story, things he had not yet been informed of. He wished to believe that she wouldn't keep things from him, but his mind shouted otherwise. "Arturia?"

 

 She turned to face him, her emerald hues glistening as their gazes met. She was beautiful, whether in battle or simply sitting amongst the grass in modern clothes. The way her hues shifted between his own only made it worse, to accuse the woman he'd sworn his allegiance to of lying, it was unforgivable. But, he had no other choice. "I cannot help but feel as though you're keeping something from me." Her features fell, her gaze averting from him as a sigh passed through her lips. "Diarmuid..." she trailed off, her eyelids falling shut as she dipped her head. Seeing her in such a way caused his heart to ache, but it proved his suspicions correct. She would not illicit a reaction if she had nothing to hide, something clearly was on her mind, and it had to be something of utmost importance. "I do not wish to cause you distress, but if there is something I must know then please tell me," he pressed on, his hand gently squeezing her own. She sighed again, raising her head to look at him once more. "I simply wanted to enjoy this day, enjoy this time with you. I did not mean to deceive you, I hope you can forgive me." Her words came out in a hushed tone, and he slowly nodded in reply. "Of course, you are a just king and I know you would only keep the truth from me if you had an honorable reason."

 

 Silence passed between them for several long moments before Diarmuid spoke again, "Please tell me." She scooted towards him in the grass, her dainty hand moving to gently brush his cheek. His eyelids fell shut, leaning into the warmth of her touch. "Would you kiss me?" his hues shot open, searching her own for any hint of jest. There was none, her gaze shifted between his lips and his eyes, desperation clear from her tone. He swallowed back, his stomach filling with static as she inched closer towards him. It had not been clear to him before this, her intentions had been so well hidden, but she truly shared in his feelings. There was no magic consuming her, no deception in the way she now longed for him. He leaned down, meeting her halfway before their lips met in a gentle embrace. Warmth coursed through his veins; the way her lips melted into his own, slowly moving together as if they had been searching for one another since the beginning of time. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, or would ever experience again. When their lips parted, it seemed to leave a feeling of emptiness where she had once been. He wished for more, but his mind chastised him—he had to find out the truth. No matter what she had been hiding, it couldn't take away these feelings that filled his core. This would not be their last moment in this way, as soon as she spoke her mind, they could continue on with their new lives together.

 

 She found her seat once again on the grass, a small smile dancing across her lips. He mimicked the smile, his stomach still buzzing from the moment they shared. Suddenly her face shifted into sincerity, the face of a woman about to reveal news that could devastate their entire country. "I withheld this information from you selfishly, I feared the outcome and only wished for your well-being." He encapsulated her hand in both of his, urging her to continue. "I wished to leave the grail war due to information I had gathered without the knowledge of my master. He had devised a plot against you and your master, it was dishonorable and unlike anything I could have ever imagined. I refused to stand with such a man and that is why I chose to abandon my wish for the grail," she let out a long breathe when she finished, her form slumping as if the burden had fallen off her shoulders. Diarmuid's eyebrows pulled together, concern clear across his face, "What plot? I must know the details, please." He begged, squeezing her hand a little too tightly between his own. Her jaw trembled, knowing full well that as soon as he knew everything, this day would be lost to them forever. Her gaze shifted between his own, hesitation weighing down her bones.

 

 "My master knew of our desire to enjoy in a final battle with one another once Caster had been defeated, he planned to use that against you, as a distraction, while he went after your master. He wanted to..." she paused, as if the next few words would somehow hurt her to speak out loud, "Arturia," he muttered, but she shook her head, pressing onward. "He wanted to force your master to use a command seal so that you would end your own life." His hands fell from hers, landing on the grass beside him. His master and his wife were in danger, and he had left them to be with the woman he believed he cared for. Yet again, he had abandoned those he pledged himself to in the desperate attempt to find happiness. How foolish, how dishonorable. He swallowed back, avoiding Saber's gaze as his fingers curled into fists. All he could do now was return and make amends by saving them from their tragic fate. "That is why I brought you with me, so that if he attempted to make a move I could protect you from yourself..." her words trembled as she reached for his hand. He made no move to take it, leaning away from her touch. Their wish to be together had been foolish from the start, and it had almost cost the life of his master. "You should not have kept such a thing from me, your reasons—just or not, it was my decision to make. I am sorry, my king, but I have a duty," He spoke, his voice harsher than she'd ever heard it. Her lips parted, but his form had already de-materialized into the night.


	4. Her Knight

Saber tossed a leg over the motorcycle, wasting no time in bringing the engine roaring back to life and heading full speed towards the highway. Where would they be? She hadn’t the faintest idea; with the dread and heartache that plagued her mind she couldn’t even focus enough to sense out her own master. This was useless- swerving across the road at speeds that even she would have considered frightening had her senses still been with her, head whipping from side to side for any possible hint of her knight. Her knight, did she even still have the right to call him that anymore?

 

The pace slowed, vehicle finally coming to a stop at the grass on the side of the road. Gloved digits reached out to turn the key, killing the engine once more, but the quick motion turned into a long tedious one. Every digit trembled, struggling to grasp the metal, and finding it almost impossible to turn it. Finally she was able to perform the task, letting the key drop to the grass and lifting her hands in front of her face. It was amazing she’d made it this far into the city with how weak her muscles were, with how badly her soul wanted to collapse in on itself. Diarmuid was going to die. Having the thought once proved to be too much as her form fell off the bike, landing on all fours in the coarse green and losing any contents that had previously remained in her stomach. There was no rhyme or reason for a spirit to have such physical ailments, but that didn’t stop the second wave coming. Her breath grew heavy, dry heaving as she shuffled away from the spew. There couldn’t possibly be anything left in her system, which must have been a relief, she supposed. The moments it took to regain her normal breathing seemed to take hours. It wasn’t just her breath, but forcing her digits to cease trembling and her muscles to work once more.

 

“Diarmuid,” the word fell from her lips, though it was far too soft for her to even hear. She was wasting time, he could be d-

Gone. He could be gone already. Meanwhile here she sat allowing emotions to tear her insides apart instead of finding him. It had been foolish to ever try and deceive him; that’s not the king she had been in life and shouldn’t have let such whimsical notions take her over now. Alas, it had been done and all she could do now was fix the mistake. The Saber slowly rose from her sitting position and rested a hand on the bike, for just an instant allowing herself to revel in the moments they shared on its back. Together. A smile curved her lips, reminiscing on how tightly he clung to her. Without intention, her hand rested on her stomach where his would have clasped together. That would never happen again, would it? Too many things were set into motion now, and her master- tsk, the dishonorable villain, would win in the end.

 

“You’ve looked better.”

 

Emerald hues narrowed as her head snapped to meet gazes with the last person on this planet she needed to see right now. “Gilgamesh.” She nearly hissed the name, fists dropping to her sides and clenching. The archer released a dry chuckle, his eyes falling to the puddle that still emanated a foul odor. “What is this, Saber? It’s not very ladylike to leave bile lying about.” He slowly shook his head, obnoxious golden locks swaying from side to side with the movement. Normally, this is where she simply would have had a retort at the ready and then carried about her day. Not today though. In an instant her hand flew to clasp the man’s neck, forcing his form onto the motorcycle. Any laughing he’d had ceased, his hands moving to either side of her arm to pry her off him. Without the element of surprise, there was no way she would have overpowered him in such a manner, but nonetheless she had. Even now his prying wasn’t enough, her grip only tightening to further cut off his airway. “Leave this place.” She spoke plainly, only a hint of malice lacing through her tone before she released him. The man doubled over, rampant coughs falling from his lips before they shifted into laughter. Cruel, maniacal laughter that roared from his throat. “Oh, princess, I think you’ll find I’m the one who gives orders between us. Well, between anyone, really.”

 

She attempted to block his voice from her mind, any more distractions would not be allowed. Her quest, her knight, that was all that mattered. She moved forward, shoving the servant away and climbing back on top of the motorcycle. Instinctively she reached to turn the key, only to see it glisten amongst the green. Gilgamesh was speaking- though it was toned out, a blur of sound nothing more. Time seemed to be moving so slowly as she reached down, sifting through the grass before a digit finally brushed against the key.

 

“Saber.”

 

A wave of mana crashed through her system, instantly dematerializing her into nothingness against the night and pulling her there. To him.


	5. Deception & Disgrace

He wasn't too late.

 

The lancer rematerialized in the darkness, at the end of a long room that was only lit by the moonlight seeping in through a window at the opposite end. Between himself and the light was the wheelchair that his master had been damned to after his defeat. He took a step forward, amber hues finally adjusting to see the short blonde locks of the magus. Relief rushed through the servant's bones. There he was, alive and well, or at least alive, and that was enough to bring a smile to the man's lips. This life, this chance, had not been wasted yet. His master was alive and the lancer's dalliance with romantic whims could be forgotten. Even for a moment thinking of his time with Saber as something so casual brought a pain to his chest. It wasn't something to be forgotten; it was something special, something important. He loved her, there was no doubt. Still, those memories had been tainted through deceit. How could she have lied to him in such a manner? Perhaps more than anything that was what had brought him back, in reality his honor meant little to nothing in comparison with how he felt towards his king. But she lied. The trust the lancer had felt turned to ashes slipping through his fingers, and now all he had left was his sense of duty to the man who sat before him. He swallowed back as much emotion as he was able.

 

"Master?"

 

Diarmuid's voice pierced the silence in a harsh dissonance, and only received a soft sigh from Kayneth. The wheelchair slowly turned so the magus could face him once more. Any relief that had covered lancer's features disintegrated as he finally looked upon the face of his master. He appeared several years older, harsh frown lines having made themselves permanent on his face, and his eyes... surrounded by grey, his skin weighing heavy beneath them. This is whom he had left behind for love, this shell of a man. No matter what he personally thought of the magus, it was cruel to have left him in such a state. Amber hues shifted around the room- where was his master's wife? It wouldn't have been unusual for them to be apart before but, shouldn't she be here looking after Kayneth with everything that's happened? His gaze must have given away the question, as his master answered without prompt.

 

"She was taken, she's gone."

 

A long silence followed his words.

 

"Probably dead by now."

 

His voice broke with the word, white-gloved hands rising to bury his face into. Soft sobs followed, and once they began there was no stopping them. Never had Diarmuid seen him in such a vulnerable state, obviously he loved his wife- but this, this was unexpected. Archibald was a man that prided himself on appearances, never showing weakness or having any emotions at all, really. Now here he was, having pulled in on himself in the chair that had become his home. Lancer slowly stepped forward, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. The sobs were instantly silenced, hands falling and gaze rising to meet brown hues. The look across his face was not one of misery; blonde brows tightly pulled together, his whole face contorting as sapphire gaze narrowed and the vein of his forehead bulged.

 

"This is YOUR fault— we were happy before you, before I was forced to summon YOU. I should have had the great Rider instead of a sniveling, disgraced Lancer who turned my own wife against me. You made her love you, drove her insane, and then weren't here to protect her. Where was so important?! What meant more than the love of my life?!"

 

Every single word felt like a knife through the chest. This had been the cost of his day of happiness: the woman his master treasured, the key to his own happiness, was lost. His master, a man who would remain in this world with or without the Grail War, and whom would be doomed to spend that time alone because of a foolish and selfish whim. He was a disgrace, everything Kayneth spat had been true— he was not worthy of the title 'Heroic Spirit', his name and form should have been lost to time as he was. The only chance at redemption was to find her, to bring her back and save them from this war. Lancer moved to kneel beside the wheelchair so that they may be on eye-level. "Who took her?" his tone remained level, yet laced with urgency. Archibald's muscles unclenched just so, "The Saber's Master— Kiritsugu."

 

He should have known. This was part of the master plan Saber had hid from him. How could she allow something like this to pass? The question was irrelevant now; all that mattered was saving Sola-Ui. His happiness had died centuries ago, but it might not be too late for Archibald.

 

"There's nothing I can do to make amends for how I've failed you, but if she is out there I will find her."

 

The magus nodded weakly, though his gaze didn't reveal a glint of hope. He just appeared tired, like his bones were weighed down by the weight of the world. Not the world, just his world, hanging in the balance. There was one thing the two agreed on: the Grail War didn't matter anymore, all that mattered was her. Lancer finally rose to his feet, leaning over to whisper a command to his master. "Leave this place, stay hidden until I find her. I will bring her to you or..." He paused, but didn't allow the thought of failure to pass his lips. "I will bring her to you."

 

Those words were the last spoken between the two before they parted ways, Archibald disappearing into the darkness and his servant slipping out the alternative exit. The building his master had been lingering was massive and empty, possibly a factory long abandoned. He made his way through room after room, not even disturbing the thick layer of dust that covered each surface. It was a miserable place, one not fit for the likes of his master. He couldn't help but think back to the apartment they began in; the two of them bathing in luxury and bliss. Until Diarmuid and this foolhardy war cursed them. He slowly shook his head, attempting to purge such thoughts that would serve no use in this rescue mission. He took in a deep breath, pausing just before the door.

 

Where was Arturia? Would she be with them— holding Sola-Ui hostage?

 

These thoughts didn't aid anyone, and yet they came rampantly and without warning. Worry, fear, dread, they all crashed into his nervous system. The truth was there was no room for anger inside himself, any room that wasn't occupied by his duty was filled with a yearning. To feel her hand in his, to pretend they belonged in this world. They didn't, though. And he needed to come to terms with that fact. This mission would help, he would fulfill his duty as a servant and disappear into nothing. Another deep breath came as he pushed open the door, instantly being met with an emerald gaze that froze him in his tracks.

 

"Arturia?"


End file.
